The Tub
by quoth-the-pigeon
Summary: All Arthur wants to do is relax. FrUK. One-shot.


Hello all! I give my wishes for you all to be well and happy. I am currently dog sitting, so I am bored out of my mind. However, during by off time while I was at the pool I thought of this little one-shot and decided to write it. Hope you like it!

_Chris

* * *

Arthur thought this was a stupid idea. Of all the ways to be spending his vacation, he had not planned on spending any of the time with the other nations. He had also not planned on staying in America with said nation. _At least it isn't the East coast_, Arthur thought with a grumble and resumed to look about his room.

They were staying in a hotel, which was nice. Even better was that Alfred had offered to pay for his room; a bribe to make sure the sour Briton would actually come. So here Arthur was – in a small cozy lodge with five other nations somewhere in the Rockies.

Placing down his luggage at the foot of the bed, England's eyes twisted from the older wooden dresser and nightstand and then to the rod iron frame bed that sported what looked to be a cozy red quilt. It was clean despite the obvious age of the place and it gave a different sort of charm compared to the stark modern cookie cutter designed rooms he was so used too when traveling for meetings.

England moved to the desk by the window, pushing aside a sheer curtain to look at the view. Trees dotted the immediate slope, and then swarmed around the rest of the mountainside as dwindled to a valley. Other peaks surrounding the lodge were dusted with snow. It was beautiful, but Arthur wasn't going to tell that to America.

Pushing the curtain open to keep the view unobstructed, Arthur walked back to his suitcase. He had been the first to arrive to the lodge/hotel/inn…whatever you wanted to call it– and had been left here as America went back to the small local airport to pick up the other arrivals as they transferred from the international airports.

It had already been an hour and Arthur was bored out of his mind. He thought about his options as he fingered the zipper to his charcoal suitcase. He could either take a walk outside –though the skies looked a little dark, he could sit in his room and read, or he could go to the small pool the place had to offer.

Unzipping his case, England looked down to the trunks in his case. Well, no one was here, so what harm could it do? Besides, he would be alone. Might as well enjoy the peace while he had it.

Arthur began to pull off his clothes, starting with his button up shirt. It wasn't that he cared if others saw his physique– it was rather the pallor of his skin. When sitting next to America, he looked as though he had never seen a ray of sunlight. Even compared to France, whose own skin was pale too, he seemed to be made of bone china. Arthur frowned and hung the shirt in the small closet. While he began to pull off his pants, underwear, and socks quickly. Actually, Arthur thought to himself as he pulled the swim trunks up, Francis wasn't all _that_ pale…especially during the summer after visiting the ocean in Nice– Arthur had to slap himself. He was not thinking about that bloody frog. Not now. He finally had a break from the pervert and he was not about to allow his thoughts to be corrupted.

He folded his slacks and rolled his socks, putting them and his briefs into the suitcase once again. England grabbed the red towel at the end of his bed and began to walk to the hall and towards the pool. It was cool outside with the promise of fall, but the leaves on the trees had yet to turn. England passed an open window and gave a smile to the scenery, finally finding the adjacent building and stepping into the tiled area.

The pool was small, nothing magnificent, though it went down to seven feet. Plain beige tile surrounded the enclosed pool and a few potted trees dotted the room next to the chairs and windows. Absinthe eyes looked around and then caught the double French doors that led to a small area outside. He looked out of the glass and saw a small hot tub there in working order and producing steam. England smiled at that, the chance to relax before anyone else came was suddenly prominent in his mind and he walked into the cool air while shutting the glass door behind him.

He put his towel on the chair, and then turned eagerly to the plastic tub. He stepped up to the edge and put a toe in, face scrunching slightly at the heat and then he relaxed as he began to stiffly walk in, finally sitting in one of the curved seats.

Ahh. That was nice. The heat of the water was already starting to take away the aches that came with traveling and Arthur simply lay in the water, arms floating listlessly. His head dipped back, dampening the hair at the back of his neck, and rested against the plastic sides. The sky above was still dark with the promise of rain, but it didn't matter to the man relaxing in the water. Besides, it was a nice change from staring at wide blue skies.

When was the last time he simply got to sit and relax without someone nagging at him? Maybe this vacation America had planned wasn't all that bad. Even better was the fact that the frog had not been asked to join. It would be him, America, Canada, Japan, and Lithuania. Now that Arthur thought about it some more…maybe it wouldn't be quite all that bad. He shut his spring green eyes as the heat began to seep into his muscles and he lolled his head with a rare smile.

"You seem quite pleased, _Angleterre._"

England's head shot up, twisting with wide eyes to see Francis standing in front of the glass doors. He was wearing a periwinkle button up shirt with a pair of dark jeans, his normally long golden hair tied back in a low ponytail. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the smirking Frenchman, falling deeper into the water until he was up to his neck as he knelt at the bottom of the tub.

"What do you want?" he muttered, spirits dampening rather then burning like dry leaves.

Francis looked at him with a coy cock of his brow and began to saunter forward. "Because I was invited _mon cher_," he stopped and tilted his head as he continued to stare at Arthur, eyes suddenly lighting up as though he had just noticed something. "That swim suit fits you nicely Angleterre," he purred, cornflower eyes somehow glinting in the dim afternoon light. He took another step forward when Arthur tensed up.

Bullocks. He was half naked with Francis barring his only escape. Anyone with even a small history with Francis knew that that was bad. He frowned as the Frenchman came closer, hands on the cold railing leading to the tub. Arthur pulled back his hand and shot it forward, sending a spray of the hot water onto Francis and soaking him.

England laughed quietly to himself, going down further into the water to hide his glee as the water came past his nose. Francis looked like a drowned rat from the amount of water he had poured on the man and already the water was cooling quickly to the chilled air.

Francis was looking down between something that looked like amusement and dismay. The Frenchman tugged at the clothes, the wet fabric clinging to every one of his muscles and the lines of his toned body. Arthur sunk down further as he saw the smile on France's lips.

"Ah well," The older nation said as he started to unbutton his shirt and peel it away, "Can't stay in these wet clothes. I guess I'll join you Arthur."

Arthur shot up, water cascading from his skin as he pointed a finger and venomous glare to the smirking blond. "Like bloody hell you will," he snapped angrily, eyebrows furrowing together in a livid mass. England had expected him to go away and change, give him some more peace or just, as he vehemently wished, disappear.

Francis simply eyed him, his eyebrow rising closer to his hairline as he pulled off the shirt with a plop and began to unfasten his belt. "You look cold," Francis finally said calmly.

Arthur sat back down in a jerk, sloshing the water about heavily and a blush cascaded his face. "Prat." he muttered and furrowed into the corner of the tub, his knees drawn up and ready to kick any wandering hands that may come. He looked away as Francis slid off his pants, revealing a pair of simple dark grey boxers. "What are you doing, you frog?" Arthur snapped as Francis started to come closer and gripped the handrail again.

With an even stare, France cocked his head to the side with a small smile. "Come now, I'm just joining you in the water."

"Like hell you are! Go put on swim trunks."

With a snort, Francis came to the steps and put a foot into the water. "All they are, _Angleterre_, are over glorified underwear." He paused and a devious smile crossed his lips. "Unless you wish for me to go naked?"

Arthur splashed water at him again. "Belt up."

France shrugged and sat down slowly into the water, letting out a sigh and letting his head come to rest on the edge.

Arthur watched him warily for sometime until France shifted and cracked an eye open at him. " I am not going to bite, Arthur. Relax."

Arthur watched him again for a minute and then tentatively sat back in the water. A few more minutes with the hot water and he shut his eyes too as silence blanketed over them.

It was nice once more and England could almost forget that the frog was sitting next to him in nothing more then his box– Arthur's eyes snapped open again, trying to banish the thought with the blank grey skies overhead.

Suddenly, something touched his back and England jerked up, his leg darting out to catch the offender and he looked to see instead Francis' smirk from across the tub. "What are you doing?" Arthur demanded.

"_I_ did nothing. It was the jets."

"Jets?"

As if on cue, the tub erupted in a cascade of bubbles, the jets turning on quickly. Arthur looked at the foam in distrust since the water underneath was now obscured and looked to the Frenchman who was leaning back again with his eyes closed.

England scowled, but said nothing due to the soothing effects of the pulsing water on his back. Rather, he leaned back again and tried to fall back into the rest he had been pursuing. However, with the proximity of the other man, his thoughts started to stray far from the calm and relaxing images he had been trying to picture.

"Arthur…are you blushing? "

The voice was right in his ear and England gave startled scream and turned with a heated glare to Francis sitting right beside him. "No you prat. It's the heat."

"Oh?" That coy and seductive smirk returned full force to the amorous nation and he leaned closer. "Then is this –" he paused and swept his hand under the water past Arthur's thighs, pelvis, and up to his chest where his hand finally settled over England's right pectoral, "because you are cold, or are you just aroused, _mon lapin_?"

As Arthur spluttered for an answer, another submerged hand brushed under his upper thigh and he stood up in a jolt. His foot caught in the divot of the curved seating and suddenly he fell back and out of the tub, crashing to the pavement with a dull 'thud' as he cracked his head harshly and passed out.

* * *

When Arthur woke up again it was with a raging headache and the vow to kill the Frenchman as soon as he saw him. Also on his hit list was now Alfred for not telling him the other was coming. He felt a cool cloth against his head and it slipped off as he sat up and looked to the table where a bottle of aspirin lay with a cup of water and a note.

_If you want my attention, just say so next time._

_ –Francis. _

Arthur shoved the cap open, swallowed a few pills with the water, and shoved his head under the pillow as his head throbbed from the movement and light. He was going to kill France.

...When his head didn't hurt quite so much.

* * *

Hope you liked it. Reviews are always loved!


End file.
